


new suit, wrong fit

by shatteredhourglass



Series: the misadventures of millennial bucky barnes [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avenger Clint Barton, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Comfort, Established Relationship, Former Red Room Clint Barton, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, POV Bucky Barnes, Self-Esteem Issues, Short & Sweet, The Nipple Piercings Are Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:35:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: Clint Barton, still figuring himself out after the collapse of the Red Room and his new job as an Avenger. Bucky Barnes, ready to shoot down his boyfriend's self-esteem problems with a shotgun and a handful of paint.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: the misadventures of millennial bucky barnes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1450663
Comments: 34
Kudos: 266
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	new suit, wrong fit

“Bucky?”

“Steve,” Bucky returns, squashes the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can fend the dog off with both hands. Lucky gets a little intense when he’s noticed something exciting happening, and Bucky’s had to deal with it every time Clint gets called out to a fight. (Tony made a joke about returning the dog _and_ Clint to the pound and Bucky nearly bit his head off for it.)

Bucky doesn’t complain, but he’s a handful. He stands up and Lucky tries to jump with him. Unlike Clint, though, he’s not going to scoop a full-sized golden retriever into his arms, so he just snaps his fingers and points at the dog bed. Lucky tips his head to the side and lets his tongue loll out.

Bucky sighs. Fucking dog.

“We’re heading your way,” Steve says. “We’ll be there in- ten, maybe? Did the costume fit?”

“Don't know. Clint’s trying it on now.”

"He hasn't even tried wearing it yet?"

"I- we were busy, okay?"

“Make sure he’s ready. Please, Buck.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky says with a wave of his hand that Steve can’t see. “He’s probably just admiring himself in the mirror. I’ll kick him out the window if he’s still in there in five minutes.”

“That’ll be something to see,” Steve says, voice filled with amusement. “Alright, see you soon.”

There’s a roar and a crash in the distance, reminding Bucky that there’s an active Avengers alert going on. He’s still banned from anything but simpler missions, so instead of putting on a jacket he starts looking around for takeout menus. There’s a new episode of something on Netflix, he can have date night on his own.

A few minutes pass and he glances up at the bathroom door. It’s still - somewhat suspiciously - shut tight, and he can’t hear any movement coming from inside. Clint’s bow is propped up against the wall near the front door of Bucky’s shabby apartment, along with the quiver. There’s no sign of his boyfriend, though, and now Bucky’s concerned that Clint _is_ spending too much time admiring himself.

“Did the suit fit or did that ass of yours get stuck?”

“Yeah,” Clint’s voice comes back after a minute, muffled by the door. “It fits.”

Huh. “Need help with the zipper?”

“I already zipped it up. I’m bendy,” Clint supplies.

 _Yeah_ , he is. Bucky’s pretty delighted about it most of the time as well. What he’s not delighted about is the concept of Clint being late for an honest-to-god battle with the Avengers. It’s worrying, though - Clint’s usually scrambling to get out there, and Bucky’s pretty sure he knows what this is all about. He steps up to the bathroom door and taps his fingers against it once, just gently.

“Can I come in?”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” is the answer he gets, and it's not a no so he pushes the door open and steps inside.

Clint’s just standing in front of the mirror blankly, staring at his own reflection. _Admiring_ would be too strong of a word - the look in Clint’s eyes is caught between anxiety, disgust and what Bucky thinks might be a flicker of fear. He doesn’t move an inch as Bucky steps closer, face carefully blank in that worrying way he does sometimes.

He’s wearing one of Steve’s suits - one of the older prototypes that was a little too long in the legs, a little too flashy for Steve’s taste. There’s bright red threading on the arms and down the legs, disappearing into the knee-high boots. It fits Clint perfectly, because somehow he’s the only person longer than Steve is without being twice as wide.

There’s no star on the front, but it’s still clearly a Captain America suit.

“It fits,” Clint says after a beat.

“Sure does,” Bucky agrees, taking it as a cue to sidle up close. He runs a hand up Clint’s chest carefully, cups his jaw and gently draws him into turning his face. Clint hasn’t shaved, and the scruff scratches at Bucky’s fingers. After a few seconds Clint’s nervous gaze lands on his, flicks away, drags back to him.

“Hi,” Bucky says softly. “Talk to me.”

"The fabric rubs against my piercings," Clint says.

Bucky fixes him with a look.

“It feels _wrong_.” Clint’s face crumples a little once he’s said it. “I’m not Captain America. I’m a fucking assassin from a Russian brainwashing facility, Buck, I can’t wear this.”

Bucky cups his face with the other hand as well, gets up on his toes so he can press his forehead against Clint’s. Clint sighs like the skin-to-skin contact is banishing whatever monsters are lurking within his head, and Bucky holds onto him a little tighter. He can’t scare off Clint’s demons, but he can shove them aside for a while. The suit's clearly not helping the situation.

“Steve’s gonna be here soon,” he says. “What do you want to do?”

“I,” Clint says. Stops. “I’ve gotta take it off.”

Bucky doesn’t argue with him. If Clint’s making a clear decision in anything he doesn’t argue about it, so he just steps back and finds the zipper at the side, helps him squirm out of the top half. Once he’s bare-chested Bucky can’t help looking, fingers itching to touch. He _doesn’t_ touch because that'll make this take even longer, but the smile that pushes onto his face upon seeing the shiny purple metal through Clint’s nipples is unavoidable.

“I like them,” Clint says. “First birthday present that wasn’t from Nat in twenty-eight years.”

“I do my best,” Bucky answers dryly. He doesn't exactly have a giant budget like the Avengers do. Clint doesn't really seem to give a shit about money, luckily for him. 

Bucky leans in to kiss him. Can't stop himself, really. 

“I'm getting my old suit,” Clint adds. “Do you-?”

“Under the bed.”

“My hero. Love you,” Clint says, leans in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before he disappears in search of the combat suit. Bucky touches the spot where his lips had been and feels hopelessly, stupidly sappy for a few seconds. He doesn’t _want_ to be a romantic, it’s just. It’s just Clint.

“Are you going to be okay in the black suit?”

He asks the question as he wanders into the main area again, listens to the sound of Clint throwing things around in the bedroom with a clatter. That’s the whole reason Steve had let him borrow a suit, after all - Clint’s not happy keeping the Red Room suit like Natasha is because he can't stop associating it with the things he did while he was wearing it. It's fair enough. Bucky knows he's still haunted by that world. It'd be hard not to be, considering how long he spent with them. 

It's not fair. Bucky's going to go and harass Stark into making some suits that aren't metal.

What he’s wearing out in the field means something to Clint. It means something to Clint, so it means something to Bucky.

Someone knocks at the door and Bucky hears Steve’s voice, then Natasha’s. Clint appears in the doorway, looking a little resigned but nowhere near as uncomfortable as he had in the Captain America suit. The black leather looks good on him and it’s _practical_. It’s just got too many bad memories, Bucky’s pretty sure.

“Guess I’m going to have to be okay in it,” Clint says with a shrug. His smile's a little weak around the edges.

There's an excited woof. Lucky comes scrambling over when he realizes his favourite human (Bucky doesn't kid himself) is in a spot where he can beg for pets, knocks over a box of Steve’s paints that he’s left here. Some of it splatters on the floor and Bucky sighs heavily at the patch of green that’s absolutely going to stain. Goodbye, deposit, you will be missed. At least Stark gives the Avengers a pretty heavy salary. Worse comes to worse, he can be Clint's sugar baby.

A light switches on in his brain.

“Stay there,” he orders Clint, who raises an eyebrow at him but behaves.

They’ve got maybe thirty seconds before Natasha gets impatient and just breaks his lock. It wouldn’t be the first time, though, and Bucky tends to prioritize Clint over his own safety anyway. May as well be a running theme.

Bucky drops to his knees and starts rummaging around. He pokes through the paints quickly until he finds what he's looking for, in a larger tube that Steve never uses because he likes painting landscapes in every other colour. Clint is rubbing his fingers over Lucky's ears and not paying attention, so Bucky pours it out onto his left hand, rubs it over his fingers before he stands up and approaches. 

"I'm gonna have to go, Buck, I don't know what-"

Bucky splats the purple paint onto the front of his suit. He doesn’t really have a plan here, so it just ends up as a neon purple V-shaped mess on the black leather, but it’ll do.

“Better,” he says. Looks up at Clint’s face. “Better?”

“It’s beautiful,” Clint says solemnly. There’s something brighter in the corner of his smile, though, something that tells Bucky he’s made a good move here. “I’m never washing it.”

“You _better_ fucking wash it, I'm the one that has to share a bed with you,” Bucky grumbles, tugging him in for a slightly paint-splattered kiss before he pushes Clint towards the doorway. “Get outta here, Barton. Go save the damn world and I’ll think about leaving enough food for you when you get back.”

Clint waves at him as he leaves.

Bucky plots to go on Twitter to see the reactions to Hawkeye’s sort-of new outfit.

It’s a pretty perfect life, all in all.

**Author's Note:**

> Winterhawk Bingo Square: Cap!Clint/Modern!Bucky
> 
> This series should be called 'clint with the nipple piercings' rather than anything else.


End file.
